Masters of Menace: A Biker Erotic Romance Read Online Free Page A

tried to reform them, shape them up a little, but because I was the newbie that didn’t go over so well. But being nineteen, I had a massive temper and I lost it one day and knocked their leader out with one punch. Since then, I’ve been the boss.” He sighed. “But because of that incident they think I’m some brute and if I don’t keep up that persona they will go on a rampage again.”
     
    I wasn’t really surprised by this. After all, I had been living with him for the better part of two weeks now and not only was he supremely gentle, respectable, and honorable, but he was also one of the most bookish guys I had ever met.
     
    He was working on his second bachelor’s degree online just because he could. I hadn’t seen anyone go through as many books in two weeks as this guy did. I didn’t even know it was possible to read that fast. No wonder he talked with the elegance and eloquence of a 19 th century orator. Guy practically spoke like Shakespeare wrote sometimes. How could I have been so wrong about him? And how could this feel so right so immediately? Whatever “this” was.
     
    I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. “So… What happened to my father?” I asked as calmly and carefully as I could.
     
    He stared at his hands. “What I hope doesn’t happen to you.”
     
    “What do you mean?”
     
    He continued to stare at his hands, the floor, his feet, my feet, basically anywhere that wasn’t my eyes. “You probably know that he was investigating my gang, much like you are. Well, the men decided to take matters into their own hands to get him off their back. I told them to leave the man alone, he had a daughter and was a good man, but they didn’t listen to me at all.” His voice was low and anguished. I want to reach out and comfort him, but I didn’t know how, or if I should. “I don’t want that to happen to anyone, especially not you.”
     
    A red flush crept my face and I stammered an excuse to head to bed and rushed out of the room as awkwardly as humanly possible.
     
    I stumbled out of bed, buttoning up the oversized flannel shirt I was sleeping in a few nights later. I slipped out of the room in search of a glass of water, wearing nothing except panties and the flannel shirt.
     
    The floor lamp in the living room was still on. That wasn’t unusual—Michael fell asleep all the time still reading. The guy even wore glasses when he was reading; how far from the stereotype was he? I went over to the turn off the lamp and realized he was still awake. Immediately I pulled the flannel closed around my neck, hurriedly buttoning it up completely. We shared an awkward moment of avoiding each other’s gazes.
     
    “Sorry,” he muttered. “I was just sitting here thinking and got lost in thought. You need something?”
     
    “I was, uh, just looking for some water. Got, uh, thirsty.”
     
    “Sure let me get that for you.”
     
    “No, it’s fine,” I said moving before he could get up. “You want anything?”
     
    “Some water too, I guess.”
     
    I got two glasses from the counter drain rack and filled them. I glanced down at myself and ran a hand through my hair. Didn’t seem like too bad a case of bedhead. I unbuttoned one of the buttons, feeling a heat rising through my body. We were adults—full-blooded, consenting adults. Why were we being such children about this?
     
    I brought back the glasses and handed him one, bending over slightly in his line of vision. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and I could see the stark outline of his muscle, flexing and relaxing as he reached for the glass. I sipped my water, watching him over the edge of the glass. He pulled his own glass away from his lips and licked them. Our eyes met for a long moment. I stood up and walked over to him, hips swaying.
     
    “This is wrong,” he said weakly as I straddled his lap, knees tucked between his thighs and the arms of the chair.
     
    “Maybe it is,” I said, running a hand through his